


The One Where Hotch is in Pajamas

by mcgarrygirl78



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/M, Friendship, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-11
Updated: 2014-10-11
Packaged: 2018-02-20 17:27:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2436905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcgarrygirl78/pseuds/mcgarrygirl78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Why do you act as if being with you is nothing?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The One Where Hotch is in Pajamas

**Author's Note:**

> Another Monday ficlet, and even though it’s Season 5 I tried not to let it dissolve into angst. Sometimes a smile makes everything better. Spoilers for Nameless, Faceless, Haunted, and Reckoner.

He was dozing off. The television played something but Hotch didn’t know what it program it was. He lay on the couch, feet on the floor, one hand behind his head. He felt himself falling…this would be the third night in a row he slept out in the living room. He felt better having his eye on the door at all times. 

 

The loud knocking woke him fully. He gripped the Glock underneath the pillow where his hand rested. Sleep had left his body; Hotch was an FBI Agent again. There was another knock and he got up and walked slowly toward the door. Leaning to look out of the peephole, he sighed, sliding his weapon into the holster on his back.

 

“What are you doing here?” he asked, opening the door and looking at Emily Prentiss.

 

“You know why I'm here. Do we have to have awkward conversation?”

 

“Go home, Prentiss.”

 

“You can either let me in or I can stay out here all night. It’s your choice, Hotch. But if I stay out here I'm keeping this pizza all to myself.”

 

“You have pizza?” Hotch asked.

 

“Mmm hmm.” She nodded. “Let me in please. This is starting to look like an awkward drug deal.”

 

Sighing, Hotch moved aside and she walked in. Emily Prentiss looked comfortable in jeans, boots, and a tank top. She carried an overnight duffle and a shopping bag.

 

“I have pizza, beverages, and Billy Wilder movies. You don’t have to pretend not to be excited.”

 

“How long did you plan on staying?” he asked, resigned.

 

“It’s a three day weekend, so…”  
  
“No.” Hotch shook his head.

 

“It’s really adorable that you think you have a say.”

 

“Prentiss…”

 

She didn’t want to hear it. Firstly, she thought it was disgusting that the FBI claimed money was running out on protecting one of their own. Secondly, she and her team weren't going to let anything happen to Hotch. They didn’t need money; they had heart. They had guns, and they had enough hatred for Foyet to handle it all themselves. To hell with the powers that be, the BAU would take care of business. Too many of their own had paid the price for going it alone…that stopped now.

 

“Nice pajamas, by the way.” She grinned, pulling the pizza and beer from the shopping bag and putting them on the counter.

 

Hotch smirked despite himself. He wore a pair of blue pinstripe pajamas pants, a Fordham University tee shirt, and sports socks.

 

“You're really going to waste your three day weekend babysitting me?” he asked.

 

“I'm not babysitting you, and its damn sure not a waste. Look, I know you think you don’t need anyone watching over you and that’s fine. Just think of it as a friend visiting.”

 

“A friend?”

 

“Yeah, a friend with pizza, beer, and two guns. Maybe you can actually sleep in your bed tonight.”

 

“The couch is really uncomfortable.” Hotch replied, though he gave no indication he had been sleeping on it for days. “There’s a bed in Jack’s room but…”

 

“It’s made for a four year old, I get it. The couch is fine.” Emily said.

 

“I’ll sleep on the couch. You can have my bed.”

 

“I’ll take the couch, Hotch. I've slept in worse places, believe me.”

 

“Should I ask?”

 

“Oh you can ask, but there’s no guarantee I'm telling you the truth. Where do you keep your cookie sheets?”

 

***

 

“You didn’t have anything to do this weekend?” Hotch asked.

 

They were sitting on his couch eating pizza and drinking Woodchuck Cider. Hotch just looked at Emily, sitting Indian style at the other end and looking as if there was nowhere else she wanted to be. She had his remote control and was flipping through the endless channels of nothing.

 

“Why do you act as if being with you is nothing?” Emily countered with a question of her own.

 

Hotch opened his mouth but no words came. He filled it with the mouth of his cider bottle.  He kept glancing at her, unsure of what to say. She was right, in a way. Why was it so hard for him to accept help? 

 

Shouldn’t he be grateful that they cared enough to be doing this? Not just that, it was always good to have some extra guns involved. A part of him didn’t think Foyet was coming back, not for him anyway, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to be vigilant. As long as that sicko was out there Hotch was going to be separated from his son. This needed to end soon, everything that made him human and real was gone.

 

“I didn’t mean it that way.” He finally said.

 

“Then how did you mean it?”

 

“Nevermind.”

 

“OK. You want some more pizza?” she asked.

 

“No thanks. That was pretty good; I'm going to have to buy some.”

 

“It’s my favorite. Do you want to try and get some sleep?”

 

“Do you plan to stay up all night?” Hotch asked.

 

“Don’t worry about me.”

 

“I can't help it.” He mumbled.

 

“What?”

 

“Nothing. I'm not tired yet; I don’t have to go to sleep.”

 

“Suit yourself.”

 

Emily went back to flipping channels as if he wasn’t even in the room. They didn’t talk much and after some time went by, Hotch didn’t know how much, he started to feel uncomfortable. He had been feeling that way since she showed up at the door but the feeling began to overwhelm him. She could sense the change in his body language.

 

“What's the matter, Hotch?”

 

“I don't know, I just…I'm used to being alone.”

 

“You can go in the other room if that’ll make you feel more comfortable.” She said.  
  
“This is my house, dammit,” He raised his voice some. “I'm not leaving the room.”

 

“Don’t raise your voice at me.”

 

She sounded calm when she said it but Hotch could hear the power underneath. Prentiss was no shrinking violet; one didn’t have to know her long to see that. She was not a blinker…she was a lot like her Unit Chief. Hotch knew that and as much as he didn’t want to think about it, he often found himself doing just that. Two years he maintained a respectable, professional distance from the woman and now she was in his living room. 

 

She was in his living room and he was in pajamas. This tiny part of him, the part he still knew was 12, hurt and angry, wanted to scream at her and scare her away. Hotch rarely let that part of him out. Another part, somewhere in his 20s, lonely, tired, wanted to hold her and never let go. And Hotch, 40something, brave, and the guy who didn’t blink…he had no idea what to do.

 

“I'm sorry.” He said. “I don't ever want to take this out on anyone.”

 

“I was so worried when you weren't answering your phone. I'm sure you know what its like to have this bile in the pit of your stomach; to know someone you care about is hurt. Right or wrong, I dropped everything and I found you. That’s all that mattered to me. The idea that you should have to go through this alone…to hell with that. I know it’s hard, I know you pretty well, but we’re not going anywhere. Don’t waste energy on pushing us away. There are better things to use it for.”

 

“I should probably just get some sleep.” He stood from the couch, running his fingers through his hair.

 

“Holler if you need anything.” Emily grabbed another piece of pizza from the tray on the coffee table.

 

She didn’t even look tired, maybe she was going to stay up all night. He probably shouldn’t worry about it…whatever happened Emily Prentiss definitely had his back. He knew that and even if it didn’t help him sleep, it calmed his pulse a bit. 

 

“Do you need anything?” he asked. “I don't know, pillows or something.”

 

“I'm fine, Hotch, don’t worry about me. Get some sleep; we’ll talk in the morning.”

 

“Talk?”

 

“Well you can ignore me if you want but I’ll be here.” Emily replied, smiling.

 

Hotch managed a small smile as well. Then his face went blank again, he said a quick goodnight, and he went into the bedroom.  Closing the door behind him, Hotch went over to the bed. He hadn’t slept in it in days. He was surprised when the door came open.

 

“We’re going to leave this open, OK?”

 

“OK.” He didn’t know how else to respond.

 

“Goodnight, Hotch.” She went to walk away and his voice stopped her.

 

“Thank you, Emily. Goodnight.”

 

As much as she wanted to reach out for him, hold on tight, she did nothing of the sort. She went back to the living room and sat down on the couch. It was quite uncomfortable but Emily hadn’t been lying when she said she’d slept in worse places. He was worth it anyway…someday she hoped to let him know just how much.

 

***

                                                                                                                    


End file.
